


The Cold Wind Blows

by lovelcce



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelcce/pseuds/lovelcce
Summary: There is a cross on a cliff, overlooking the city. And the man that sits there, under a constant vigil, that haunts my dreams. No one visits the cross, or the abandoned park that surrounds it. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll ever leave, letting the cross stand over the city on its own.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	1. March 4, 2020 11:59pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it too much to have a dream journal? A diary? Is there any worth to write down the cluster of information that appears so vivid when I’m asleep? Only to feel like nonsense when I wake up....

There’s a man crouched by the cross, though his arms seem too long, bent awkwardly as he picks at the grass. A gentle breeze floats by, stirring dried leaves from the ground to twirl around us on this cliff. And the stars are nowhere to be seen, hidden behind the pollution of the neon lights of the cross. Where is his face? His head hangs low between his knees, dark brown hair blocking any glimpses of the man’s eyes. 

“How long have you been here?” I ask, and he does not answer. We both know. “Why don’t you leave?”

The man sways with the barren branches as another gust of breath passes by, racing past the mountain in a wild escape from the city. I long to move closer, cradle his head in my hands in a play of comfort. Instead I take a step back, and he stays and stays and stays. 


	2. August 11, 2019  4:26pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this how it began? The whole city pretending we don’t know him? That we don’t see him when we watch the clouds pass behind the sleeping giant?

The heat of summer swells as I sit in my car, the air conditioning clicking rapidly under the radio. My eyes feel heavy as I blink, pushing hair out of my face as the car behind me honks their horn. As if I had anywhere to move in the standstill traffic of rush hour. 

“Does it look like I can move forward?” I snap into my rearview mirror, as if the angry driver behind me will know what I’m saying. 

Sweats builds on my temples, and my hair tingles at the scalp as I attempt to turn the vent towards me. The city looks as it always does, bustling with people and cars that screams at each other with increasing anger the lower into the valley you go. I used to think that the valley was so close to hell that it made everyone angry. Now, though, I realize that it’s merely that the population is bigger than the top of the mountain - of which only sits a few houses and a convent of nuns. The clocktower is wrong, though the last time anyone needed it to tell the time has long passed. 

We all watch the valley, for it’s easier to look below us on the freeway, than to stare up at the mountain and the cross. And inevitably see the man, sitting and watching us move along like busy ants. Though I do not think he watches us, at least anymore. 


	3. March 14, 2020  10:17pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have decided that dream journals are useful tools in life, to some extent. Of course, these are not truths to the world, but they must mean something. Shouldn’t they?

“Do you get lonely?” I ask, this time we lay next to each other, staring at the sky as the clouds pass over us. It’s cold, and my sweater scratches against my skin. The clouds seem neverending like this, layers of grey overlapping eachother in an attempt to envelop us in their chill. 

The man does not respond, and I do not look at him. He does not look at me. The cross stands above us, tall and proud. I tilt my head back to look at it, upside down in my eyes with the sky under our feet and the ground hanging over us. 

I feel the urge to reach for the man’s hand, but my arms are too short to reach his. And I wonder if it’s only the feet between us stopping me from looking. From seeing. From knowing. 


	4. August 13, 2019 8:47pm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has he always been here? How far back into my memories can I see him?

I can see him above us all, sitting like a dark angel against the light of the cross. The sky has turned a vibrant purple as the sun begins to hide behind the sleeping giant of the mountains around us. Mosquitos flutter around my face as sweat pools in the soles of my sandals. How can he stay so close to the sun? The heat of its rays against him with no relief. I inhale the scent of melting tires as I look away, my gaze landing on the old clocktower that no longer tells time. 2:09, it says, though night is creeping over mountain tops. I shake my head, feeling hair stick to my neck as my skin sweats, looking down at the ground as I trail sidewalks.


	5. March 20, 2020 2:17am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I woke up to the rain against the roof of my home, and the window open. Leaves had fallen onto my floor and bed, but the rain had barely touched the room.

It’s easy to forget the wind when it disappears, its absence unnoticed. And when it slams into me once more, pelting against me with leaves and dust from the forest, I stumble away. The back of the cross is all at once too close and too far, the wind shaking the trees surrounding me. Surrounding us. He’s standing this time, head tilted to the sky as the air pulls at his clothes and his hair. Leaves swirl around his feet, dancing close but never touching him. I reach towards him, but the thunder rolling in the clouds above us has me once more retreating. I turn away, back into the forest where the trees provide shelter. 


	6. April 17, 2020 7:19pm

When I ask my sister about the man, she gives a confused smiles. I almost joke that it’s funny, how she’s never seen him. How could one living at the foot of the mountain never see the guardian watching over the city? Instead, I change the conversation, a sense of itchiness crawling up my back like the linger touch of a hand. Maybe she’s afraid of him, though I can’t imagine why.


	7. April 20, 2020 4:25pm

My car’s radio is out of tune, but not enough to lose the station completely. They’re giving some report of the daily news, a girl who’s gone missing nearby. A recording of the mother begging for any information on her daughter. I turn off the radio, prefer to sit in silence as I round the corner just before the mountain. The cross watches, this time a red light glowing from it for some religious holiday I can no longer remember. The clock on my dashboard clicks slowly with the passing time as the light falls across the pavement, illuminates my car. Has it always been this bright?


	8. April 22nd, 2020 7:54pm

It’s raining when I enter the park. Can I call it a park? The grass is overgrown, and any attractions are long overrun with weeds and graffiti. I pull my jacket closer, feeling the fabric of my dress cling to my legs. I’d forgotten an umbrella at home, and the thought of it sours in my mind as the wind picks up. It pushes on me from behind, and I follow the paths until it ends. The gravel slowly dispersing into dirt and then grass. The cross stands alone, on the very edge of the cliff. I’d always imagined it as a lush garden, filled with daffodils and daisies. Instead, I trip over broken glass from an old beer bottle.

He’s here, an outline against the bright white of the cross, hair slicked back by raindrops. A thick bubble of fear fills my throat, sliding my feet forwards. Tonight, he looks away from the cold city, his back to the cliff. And this time, I refuse to cower from him as we face each other. His eyes watch me, a glowing grey. Afraid that he’ll hurt me, his hand raises slowly, palm up in invitation. His skin’s softer than I thought it’d be, and I tremble as I slide my thumb across his cheek.

“Ma’am? This is private property. I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” A woman says, startling me from where I stand. My hand slides down the surface of the cross, and I only linger for a moment.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware.” I say, my bones hollowed out as I follow the figure of an old nun away from the cross. She leaves me at my car, where I sit with the key in the ignition. My fingers ghost over my wrist, where he’d pressed his fingers into my pulse.


	9. August 11th, 2020 4:27pm

My car’s air-conditioning clicks as I sit on the highway, watching the two cars in front of me scream at each other. My bangs stick to my forehead with sweat, and I fight the urge to open my windows against the heat. Farther ahead, the sun reflects against the pavement in the illusion of water. The radio crackles with the weather report; another heat wave. I keep my eyes focused on the city, but I can feel his eyes following me from above. The cross stands tall, casting shadows across the highway. Slowly, cars begin to move again, a creep past the summer construction that never ends. I remind myself to never dream of him again.


End file.
